Warrior Princess
by Missmarybeth
Summary: Princess Elia was a fearsome warrior... Ellie Blake? Not so much. Her story book ending and her real life collide into one, and theres no telling which is the real one.


The woods were silent under the swollen moon. The scent of pine trees and damp vegetation filled Princess Elias nose as she prowled through the under brush. Her eyes were sharp even in the darkness. Her bow was poised, an arrow knocked. She was one with the forest. She was a moving, breathing extension of the spirit of nature. She sniffed slightly, like a wolf stalking her pray. She paused at the sound of a broken twig. She waited, her auburn hair framed in moon light. The green skirts of her dress rustled in the sweet night breeze. She turned her head, and let an arrow fly. The deer fell as silently as she had killed it. She skipped to the deer's side like a giddy child. She may have been one with the forest, but killing... killing was in her nature.

"Be still now, child," she whispered as she stroked the dying deer's face.

"You may rest easy knowing you have fed the hungry,"

Princess Elia carried the deer on her shoulders like a barbaric warrior. She ignored the burn of her muscles, the pain in her feet. She carried the deer to her castle and rejected any offer of help from her guards. She dragged the dead beast into the throne room, where her father King sat. She dropped the beast at his feet, a grin on her face.

"We shall allow our people to feast tonight, father," She grinned.

Her father, King Peter, did not look impressed. He looked down upon his blood-soaked daughter, his eyes full of disappointment and scorn. He had wished for a son, and instead had received a daughter, who acted like a man. He loved her dearly, but every prince he presented to her, was rejected. He needed a powerful alliance between kingdoms. He needed the money, for his kingdoms sake. This was something Princess Elia did not understand. She thought fighting could solve all their problems.

"Dearest daughter, must you make a fool of yourself in front of the whole kingdom?" He asked.

Elia frowned.

"But father, I have hunted enough food for our people. All of them. Even the smallest of hamlets will feast tonight. Are you not proud?" She asked, offended.

Her father rubbed his eyes tiredly. Since her mothers passing, he had found no way to contain her. She had taken to training with the guards, the local knights. He had done all he could to deter her, he had taken her to every ball, paid for the best ladies maids, bought her the most lavish dresses money could buy. It didn't matter what he did. She was not the type to sit and sew and sing. She was the type of girl to hunt, and fight, and run.

"I would be proud if you would find a prince to marry," he muttered.

Princess Elia rolled her eyes. She folded her arms, fixing her father with a pointed stare.

"Dearest father, I do not wish to marry a silly prince in tights," Elia scoffed.

King Peter slammed his hand into the throne. The servants scurried to leave. Elia stared up at her father as he rose from his throne. He was a tall, strapping man, but he was aging. He was entering his decline. His knees wobbled a little as he descended the steps, but he still held the pride of his youth. He moved to his daughter, stepping over the dead stag. He took her face in his hand, wiping away the blood. She stared up at him, hoping he would be lenient. She knew she was beginning to test his patience.

"Please daughter. I grow old. I wish to see you betrothed, happily wed," he begged.

Princess Elia frowned. She did not want to be wed. She wanted to be free, but she loved her dear father. She took his hand in hers, and smiled up at him.

"I... I will try," she replied.

Storybrooke

Ellie Blake was a mystery. Henry couldn't quite figure out who she was. She didn't seem to fit anyone. Not a single character. He watched her walk happily into the grocery store, a basket balanced on her arm. Her sundress was the color of sunshine, and her auburn hair shone like liquid fire. She was so carefree, like there was nothing in the world that could dampen her day. Of course, she was cursed, just like everyone else. She didn't remember her true life, whatever it had been.

"What's up, kiddo?" Emma asked as she approached Henry.

He sat alone at the coffee shop, his book of fairy tales open on the table. She sat opposite him, observing his confused face. Henry gave a sigh as he pointed across the street, to Ellie. Emma looked across at the beautiful woman, who was picking out a selection of pears.

"I can't tell who she is," he said, exasperated.

Emma raised an eyebrow as she looked over at Ellie. She knew how important it was for Henry to find out who was who from the story book.

"Well... who could she be?" Emma indulged him.

Henry shrugged, flipping through the pages. He landed on a few, gave them a second's glance, then moved on. Finally, he just slammed the book closed.

"I don't know. I really don't," He sighed angrily.

Emma didn't quite understand why this one girl mattered so much. She filled her basket with a variety of colored vegetables, her smile unwavering the entire time. Ruby approached her, and they shared a brief conversation. Ellies smile was intoxicating.

"Is she Ariel? You know, the hair?" Emma asked, but Henry shook his head.

"No. I thought that, but she doesn't sing. Or swim," Henry told Emma.

They continued to watch Ellie as she payed for her groceries and headed down the street. As she left the shop, she bumped into Jefferson. Emma leant forward and watched the two interact. Jefferson apologized to her as she smiled, laughing it off.

"Did the Mad Hatter have a wife?" Emma asked, and Henry shrugged.

"Priscilla, but she died. They had a child, Grace. I don't think their stories align," Henry said, but Emma saw what he didn't.

He saw the way she blushed. He saw the way he smiled at her. Their stories had to be tangled, some way or another. Emma couldn't explain it, she didn't even fully believe it, but she could sense it. Sense they had a connection.

"I wouldn't be too sure,"


End file.
